


it's (not) just you and me

by totallyunrelated



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, F/M, Nothing too explicit though, aang and katara try and fail to get alone time, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25766329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyunrelated/pseuds/totallyunrelated
Summary: 3 times that Aang and Katara were interrupted...and one time they were not.
Relationships: Aang & Sokka (Avatar), Aang & Toph Beifong, Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Toph Beifong & Katara
Comments: 2
Kudos: 102





	it's (not) just you and me

  1. Sokka



Katara is patiently showing waterbending forms to a group of young waterbenders when she sees the shadow in the sky. Her heart leaps into her throat and the water she’d been controlling splashes to the ground. It begins to soak through her boots, but she pays it no mind, instead hurriedly dismissing the confused children and practically running for the courtyard, the only place big enough for a sky bison to land in. When the city (she uses that word loosely, it’s not really big enough to be a city but certainly bigger than a village would be, nowhere near the size of Ba Sing Se or Omashu or any of the giant Earth Kingdom cities she’d seen on her travels) was being built she’d insisted on it, symbolising her hope that Aang would be coming regularly. The courtyard is behind the town hall, the biggest building there, and it’s mostly used as a playground for the children or a training ground for the more advanced waterbenders. People are scattering away from it now, aware of the dark shape circling above. Her heart soars as she recognises the distinctive shape of Appa, growing larger as he comes in to land.

“The Avatar is here!” she hears someone cheer. A crowd is beginning to form, a sea of blue waiting in anticipation. Sokka and her father appear out of the crowd and take their places beside her, waiting to welcome the Avatar.

She hasn’t seen Aang in a month. He’d been needed in Ba Sing Se for important meetings involving new trade routes, and at first she’d planned to go with him, but then she’d received news that Gran-Gran was sick and asking for her, so she and Sokka had taken a ferry down to the South Pole. Of course, he’d offered to go with her, and even though she’d been tempted, knowing that if she asked he would drop everything for her, in the end she knew that he was needed elsewhere. It had only been four years since the end of the war, after all; peace was still a fragile thing, and the last thing they needed was another war breaking out. And besides, it was only a month. They could survive without each other for that long, and she knew he would always come back to her.

But the figure that dismounts is quite different from the one she’d been expecting.

As always, he’s clad in his usual Air Nomad yellow and orange robes, but there’s something undeniably different about him that she can’t quite put her finger on. Then he gets closer, and  _ oh. _ Katara swallows against a suddenly dry throat.

Apparently, he’d had a growth spurt in the time he’d been gone. Before, he’d still been a little shorter than her, the shortest in their little group save for Toph, and had endured merciless teasing from pretty much everyone for it. Now he seemed to tower over her; she had to look up to see his face. He had also lost any baby fat that seemed to linger even as he passed his sixteenth birthday, and his face was angular, jawline chiseled. It was as if he’d aged five years in the time he’d been away, become an adult all at once. Before, there had been instances where people refused to take him seriously, stating that he was  _ just a child, _ but now...now nobody would be able to say that.

She feels heat pooling within her, and shivers a little. The amount of desire she feels blindsides her; she’s breathless, struggling to string together coherent thoughts. She’s never felt like this before, never  _ wanted  _ like this before. Their relationship had been innocent, pure, consisting of chaste kisses and lingering hugs. But now...she doesn’t know exactly what she wants, but she knows it’s not that. It’s something  _ more. _

Her thoughts drifting, she fails to realise that her father has been speaking all along. She’s startled out of her thoughts by Sokka’s elbow to her arm, and quickly rearranges her expression, trying to act as though she’s been listening all along. She looks up, and locks eyes with Aang. This, at least, is familiar. His eyes have not changed; they hold the same spark of mischief and playfulness they always have. She feels herself relaxing. They exchange a smile, a lingering look. 

_ I missed you,  _ his eyes tell her. She responds in kind.

They keep up a light flow of conversation as she walks him to his quarters, catching up on what they’ve missed over the past month. He’ll be staying in the Chief’s house, where Katara also resides. Sokka, being an adult, has his own house, but Katara, being an unmarried woman, is required to stay with her father until she is married. Ordinarily, she would have put up a fight over that sexist rule, but since her father barely sees her as it is, it’s a small courtesy to at least stay with him when she comes to visit. If she were staying in the tribe full-time, she might have more issue with it, but she often accompanies Aang on his travels and is gone for long stretches of time. The house was actually built by Katara herself, along with many of the other structures, using waterbending. She’d insisted on staying for a bit to help with rebuilding right after the war, wanting to help her own people.

Appa is led to a giant igloo behind the Chief’s house that Katara had built especially for him. Once he’s settled, they continue on into the house. It’s a magnificent structure, if she does say so herself, quite a far cry from those animal pelt tents they’d been living in when she was a child. All the furniture is made out of ice, covered by furs and blankets. 

“I replaced all the furs with koala-sheep blankets,” she tells Aang as they enter his room. “I know you were uncomfortable with the animal pelts last time, so as soon as we got a shipment in I saved some for you.”

“Thanks, Katara. You didn’t have to,” says Aang, but he’s smiling gratefully. As an Air Nomad, he believes that all life is sacred, and though he understands and respects that for her people, killing animals is a means of survival, would never dream of saying anything about it, she knows that he would prefer not having the constant reminders of dead animals everywhere.

She’s suddenly very acutely aware that she’s in a room, alone, with Aang. His presence feels different than it used to - still very much Aang, but it awakens things inside her that she’s never felt before. She wants to simultaneously be as close to him as possible and run as far away as she can to escape the feeling.

“I missed you so much, Katara,” says Aang, dark eyes watching her intently. Even his  _ voice  _ has gotten deeper. She shivers at the sound, and he moves closer, assuming that she’s cold. As his arms slide around her, she tilts her head up - strange, that, she’s so used to bending down - and their lips meet. It’s familiar, something they’ve done many times before, but it was always just a peck, chaste, innocent.  _ This  _ is so much more than that.

She entwines her own hands behind his neck, going up slightly on tiptoe so she can get a better angle. He pulls her closer so that her body is flush against his; though she has many, many layers on, she can still feel every point of contact. It makes her feel like she’s on fire, though she’s a waterbender, not a firebender. They part briefly to draw in a breath, foreheads bent together. She traces his jawline lightly with a finger, trying to commit this new face to memory. He watches her with dark, hooded eyes, pupils dilated.

“I missed you too,” she whispers into the space between their lips. Feeling bold, she trails a hand down his back, tracing his tattoo. He gasps sharply. His grip tightens on her waist.

“Katara…” It comes out in a sigh. The sound only makes her feel more alive.

“Is this okay?” she murmurs, hand hovering just above his lightning scar.

He nods frantically. “Yes, more than okay...keep going.”

She smiles, leans up to kiss him again as her hands map out the expanse of his back. 

_ “Ew! Oogies!” _ They hastily break apart as Sokka’s disgusted voice rings out, Katara nearly tripping as she distances herself from Aang. He braces her with a hand on her arm, and she chances a glance up at him. His cheeks are burning as red as hers must be.

“That is my little sister, Aang! I trusted you!”

_ “Sokka!”  _ snaps Katara, embarrassed. He points to both of them, threatening.

“I am keeping an eye on you two. You better not get up to anything that you don’t want Dad to see!”

.

.

.

  1. Toph



It’s raining something fierce when they finally land to make camp for the night. Aang uses earthbending to help Toph down from Appa, the earthbender complaining loudly all the way. She still hates travelling via bison, but Katara can’t really blame her for that. After all, she’s completely blind up there, no matter how much she might trust and even secretly like Appa.

They’re currently on their way to the Fire Nation to visit Zuko. Although their little group has pretty much gone their separate ways since the end of the war, they still make it a point to get together a few times every year, usually meeting up in the Fire Nation since Zuko is Fire Lord and can’t exactly go on extended vacations, while the rest of them are much more flexible. Aang and Katara had been in the Southern Air Temple, overseeing reparations that were finally beginning, and they’d picked up Toph, who preferred riding on Appa over taking a ferry, along the way.

Toph immediately bends herself an earth tent, speaking only to ask Katara to bend the water out of her and the ground. Once she does, Toph immediately ensconces herself in the tent, declaring loudly that nobody is to disturb her. Katara can’t help but quirk a smile at that, reminiscing about their past adventures. She’d initially found Toph annoying, and they’d fought a lot, but eventually she’d come to regard the earthbender as a little sister, understanding that though she seemed aloof and indifferent, it was only because she was used to being coddled and protected due to her blindness and felt that she needed to assert her independence.

Though technically she and Aang have separate tents, they choose to share one, knowing that Toph will not care. If they were with Sokka, they might have kept up appearances, but right now neither of them cared about that. She sets out their sleeping bags, bending the water out of her hair.

“This is nice,” says Aang, pulling her closer so she’s nestled against his side. She gives a soft hum in agreement. “It reminds me of when we were younger, travelling all over the four nations. It was stressful, but it was also fun.” He laughs a little at that, but she agrees.

“I get it,” she says softly. “Sometimes I feel like we had more freedom back then, even if it felt like the whole world was trying to kill us.”

“We should do this more often,” muses Aang. “Camping, I mean. Having a bed and a warm meal is nice and all, but here I can do  _ this.” _ In one swift move, he rolls them so that she’s on top of him, pressed flush against his body. She giggles. It’s true - whenever they do go to an inn, they’re always given separate rooms, and they never go to each other for fear of the rumors that might be spread. Not that  _ she  _ really cares, but other people do, and they’re trying to get people to respect him more, not less.

Her hair falls down over her face as she leans down to kiss him, the ends resting against his collarbone. It quickly deepens, and she shrugs her parka off, tossing it to a corner of the tent. He starts kissing in a line down her throat, making her moan, but before he can get any further than that an earth spike suddenly bursts out of the ground beside them, mere centimeters away from Aang’s head. They stare, wide-eyed. Aang lets his head fall back and groans.

_ “Toph!” _ he yells in exasperation.

“I can feel you!” Toph shouts back. “It won’t kill you to wait one more day, Twinkletoes! I do  _ not  _ want to feel you two banging!”

The earth spike recedes into the ground. Katara rolls off her boyfriend with an annoyed sigh, disappointed.

.

.

.

  1. Zuko



Fire Nation meetings are  _ so boring.  _ Katara tries her best to look like she’s paying attention, but really, it’s impossible. They’ve been going around in circles for the past two hours, repeating the same point over and  _ over  _ and  _ over  _ again. And they’re getting nowhere. She idly plays with the water between her fingers, water that she slipped out of her glass when no one was looking, forming more and more intricate shapes with it. She’s currently trying to perfect the features on a turtleduck, down to the markings on the shell. Yes, she’s  _ that  _ bored. Even Zuko had started to look twitchy after the first hour, though nothing he says seems to have any effect on the obstinate old generals who are possibly getting their revenge on Zuko for allowing her, Toph, and Sokka into the meeting in the first place. She would not put it past them. Though Zuko becoming Fire Lord has certainly had a positive impact on the Fire Nation, an entire century of propaganda didn’t just vanish in a heartbeat. There were still plenty of people who believed in Fire Nation supremacy and resented the other nations for demanding money for reparations, even though the reparations were only needed because of the damage that the Fire Nation caused. She certainly doesn’t envy Zuko his position. It would take much longer than five years, a decade, or even two decades to change people’s minds.

She lets out some of her frustration in a barely audible sigh and looks over at Aang, who’s seated opposite her at the table. He’s already looking at her; when they make eye contact, he makes a show of (covertly) rolling his eyes. She smiles a little, and is suddenly hit with the urge to take his hand and run out of the meeting. She quashes the urge. As much as she hates this, they really don’t need any more reason for the Fire Nation to hate them. As it is, most of the older generation barely tolerate them at best, openly hate them at worst. There have been multiple assassination attempts on Zuko, mostly from his own people.

Suddenly, she feels the water being pulled from her hands, and raises an eyebrow at Aang. He smirks back at her, hands moving swiftly under the table. He tilts his head, and she catches the water he sends back to her, now reformed into letters of ice. Checking that no one’s paying attention to her, she ducks her head down and reads.

_ The only thing that’s getting me through this meeting is imagining what I’m going to do to you after. _

She flushes immediately, though she can’t deny the thrill that goes through her as she looks up at meets his eyes, that incorrigible smirk still on his face. She suddenly feels wide awake.

_ Oh really? What are you going to do to me, pray tell?  _ She sends the letters back, watching as his mouth curves up into a wicked grin. The voices have faded into background noise around her. She’s not even trying to pay attention anymore.

His answer makes her toes curl in anticipation. Now more than ever she’s  _ really  _ wishing for this goddamn meeting to be over.

When the meeting is  _ finally  _ over (thank the spirits, she was beginning to lose her mind), Katara is the first one out the door. She practically runs to her room, mumbling an excuse about wanting to change into something more comfortable to Sokka, who just stares at her in confusion. Not one of her best excuses - she’d worn Water Tribe formal wear to the meeting, which wasn’t really much different from what she wore on a daily basis. She’s just stripped down to her wraps when Aang slips in, panting like he’s just been running. She smirks at the look on his face when he looks up and sees her. She loves the way he looks at her, like she’s the only person in the world, like he couldn’t tear his eyes away if his life depended on it. He looks at her like she’s a goddess come to earth. She used to feel awkward around him like this, but she’d quickly gotten over it when he told her she always looked beautiful to him, no matter what she was wearing.

“What you do to me, Katara…” He’s in front of her in three quick strides, pulling her to him and bending down to press his lips to hers. She smiles, deepening the kiss, drinking him in. It’s a welcome relief after those long, boring hours of staring at the ceiling and trying her best to remain calm and under  _ no  _ circumstances slap anybody with a water whip.

“You drive me crazy,” he whispers into her skin between kisses. “All I could think about was you -”  _ kiss _ “your hands on my skin -”  _ kiss  _ “running my hands through your hair -”

Katara snorts. “Uh-huh. I could tell, like when Zuko had to call your name  _ three  _ times to get your attention,” she giggles.

He groans in embarrassment. “I could care less about military reforms.”

She laughs, tugging at his robe, helping him get it off, laying her hands on the bare expanse of skin it reveals. He caresses her bare waist, hand dipping ever so slightly lower, making her shiver. They’re so caught up in each other that they don’t notice Zuko standing in the doorway, pointedly clearing his throat. They only jump apart when he raps on the door loudly to get their attention.

Zuko’s eyes are fixed on the ceiling, but Katara still feels uncomfortably exposed, quickly grabbing the nearest item of clothing to cover herself - in this case, Aang’s discarded robes. 

“Don’t you know how to knock?” she snaps, trying to cover up her embarrassment. Zuko keeps staring at the ceiling, seeming to find it the most fascinating thing in the universe.

“The door was open,” he mumbles. Katara flushes, but can’t bring herself to apologise. He clears his throat uncomfortably. “Um, we’re having dinner...it’s the room straight down the hallway. You might want to, uh, get dressed.” He backs away before either of them can reply, closing the door behind him. 

Katara’s breathing returns to normal. She sneaks a look at Aang, who, instead of looking embarrassed, is still watching her with a smoldering look, like he wants to devour her. 

“You look good in my robes,” he says, voice husky. He doesn’t move, instead taking his time to look her over, gaze travelling agonisingly slowly up her body. His appreciative stare makes her feel heady, invincible. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to wear them more often, if you don’t mind,” she says coyly, making a point of swaying her hips as she walks towards him, Zuko’s interruption entirely forgotten.

“Of course I don’t mind. What’s mine is yours,” he manages, voice going even deeper. It sends tingles throughout her body.

“Hmm. Good,” she breathes, stopping within touching distance. He wraps a hand around her waist and pulls her closer, fisting a hand in his robes. For a moment they stay in limbo, neither making a move. 

“We’re going to be late for dinner,” she murmurs, breaking the silence.

His eyes fixate on her lips. “Mmm.”

What’s left of her self-control slips away. “Someone might come looking for us.” It’s obvious that neither of them care.

“I think they’ve learned their lesson about that,” he breathes, then swiftly closes the distance between their lips.

When they finally gather up enough willpower to break apart, they’re both dishevelled - though Katara significantly more so than Aang. Her wraps are hanging looser than they originally were (though she didn’t take them off - neither of them are ready for  _ that  _ yet -) and her hair is a mess. She’d pulled away when Aang’s stomach rumbled, alerting them to the fact that neither of them have eaten since midday. And they really do need to get a move on anyway; the next person to come looking for them might be Sokka, and  _ that  _ would be significantly worse than Zuko. Especially if her brother sees her in such a state.

As Aang reties her wrappings, she’s acutely aware of his hands on her bare back and the lingering way his fingers brush over her skin. She’s half-tempted to forego the dinner entirely - screw what her friends will think - and continue with what they were doing before, but she restrains herself with every ounce of willpower she possesses. 

“Hey,” she says suddenly. “There’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

His hands still on her back. “What is it?”

“Where did you learn about all this stuff?” she asks, gesturing vaguely. “You know, the, uh, physical stuff.” Her cheeks are burning, though she’s not sure why - they had just been engaging in some pretty physical stuff. “I mean, you were raised by monks, and you were twelve years old - I doubt they taught you much about it.”

Aang clears his throat, sounding embarrassed. He mumbles something inaudible. 

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Zuko taught me,” he says, louder than strictly necessary. There’s a beat of disbelieving silence. Katara whirls around to stare.

“ _ Zuko? _ What - are you actually serious?”

“Unfortunately,” Aang mumbles, cheeks flaming cherry-red. “Trust me, it was not a fun conversation. For either of us.”

“I can imagine,” says Katara, still flabbergasted. “How did that happen?  _ When?” _

“Uh, well, it was actually while we were still in the middle of the war,” he says. “I heard noises coming from Sokka and Suki’s tent at night, so I asked about it in the morning...and then somehow Zuko got roped into it, and yeah.”

She can’t wrap her head around it. It just seems ludicrous. But it’s hilarious to imagine Zuko crawling out of his skin at having to give a twelve-year-old monk who had once been his worst enemy the dreaded Talk. “There’s something I would never have imagined.”

“I know, right?” says Aang. “But in a weird way, I’m grateful to him for it. I mean, yeah, it was embarrassing, and uncomfortable, and I couldn’t look anyone in the eye for like a week, but it was something I needed to know. And I’m really grateful that he took it upon himself to actually teach me, and make sure I knew what I was doing.”

“Wonders never cease,” says Katara. Though she, too, finds herself grateful to Zuko.

.

.

.

+1

_ Married.  _ The word rings through Katara’s head. It still doesn’t feel quite real to her. It hasn’t really hit her yet, that she’s really married to her best friend, is going to spend the rest of her life with him. There’s people everywhere, coming up to offer her congratulations, and she accepts it graciously, though her head is still spinning and their words hold no meaning.

She’s twenty now, four years past the marriageable age in her tribe. She’d always known that marriage was in the cards, had impatiently waited for this very moment, but now that it’s here she finds that she can’t quite comprehend it. Not that she’s  _ regretting  _ it, or anything - it’s just that this is everything she’s ever wanted and she’s kind of waiting to wake up and realise that the past six years of her life were all just a dream.

“Katara?” A voice as familiar to her as her own breaks her out of her thoughts. She turns to find Aang -  _ her husband _ \- standing behind her, the biggest smile plastered on his face. His eyes shine when he looks at her, like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. “Would you do me the honour of dancing with me?”

She smiles at him, and her heart sings.  _ Real. This is all real.  _ “It would be my pleasure,” she says, taking his hand. 

They’ve danced together countless times since that first time in a cave in the Fire Nation - balls and parties are, it seems, a prerequisite of being a diplomat - but every time it feels like the first time. No matter the setting, no matter the music, everything fades when they start dancing together. She still remembers what he had said to her, that first time.

_ Don’t think about them. It’s just you and me. _

“I love you,” she says as he twirls her.

“I love you,” he says as he dips her. When she comes back up their lips meet in a kiss, and everyone around them cheers. She pays them no mind, attention wholly focused on her husband.

_ You and me. Forever.  _

Later he brushes out her hair as she scrubs her face clean in their new house. They’d chosen to have their wedding in the South Pole, partially because Air Nomads had no marriage traditions and partially because Katara’s Gran Gran was getting too old and frail to travel much and they’d wanted her to be there. She had been worried that Aang would feel like there was too much Water Tribe, but he had assured her that he was okay with it, that he wanted her culture to become his too. She had also, at one time, been worried that he wouldn’t even want to marry her because traditionally Air Nomads did not marry, but he had stated that though he wanted to honour the traditions of his people, it was also important to adapt and realise that not everything was going to be the same as it was back then. He, alone, could not possibly replicate every single part of the Air Nomad culture. It was inevitable that some things had to change.

“I can’t believe I’m finally married to you,” Katara whispers, twisting to face him and twining her hands around his neck. Her smile has not left her face since the moment she saw him that morning.

“I know. This is the happiest day of my life,” Aang responds, lifting her up. She squeals in surprise, holding on tight as he carries her over to the bed and lays her out on the bison blanket. (It was made out of Appa’s shed fur, a gift from Aang on her fifteenth birthday. Almost surprisingly, it’s as warm as any of the animal pelt blankets she has.) She stretches languidly, enjoying the way his eyes linger on her, the way his eyes darken as she spreads her legs a little.

“Today we’re definitely not going to get interrupted,” she says, and he laughs, both of them remembering fondly the times when their friends would inadvertently walk in on them. It had been embarrassing in the moment, but when she looks back she can appreciate the hilarity.

“I’ll airbend anyone who dares out.”

She laughs, sitting up to take off her dress. Aang makes no move to help her, and if she draws out the process a little longer, then that’s not entirely her fault. She pulls him closer by the front of his robes, running a finger down his chest. He hurriedly divests himself of clothing, crawling onto the bed so that he’s on top of her, straddling her waist. For a moment, they stay there, drinking each other in.

“Kiss me,” breathes Katara. He does, leaning down to meet her lips, arms braced on either side of her. Her hands drift lower, causing him to let out a groan. Heat pools deep in her stomach as she continues her ministrations. It shoots directly downwards when he moans into her mouth, breathing erratic.

“I love you,” he gasps, “my wife.”

“And I love you,” she smiles, “my husband.”

.

.

.

Bonus

One minute his world is shattering around him and he’s seeing stars. The next, he’s suddenly falling through the floor, landing with a  _ thud  _ that echoes. He lies there, dazed, wondering what just happened.

Katara groans from next to him, pushing herself upright. He immediately goes on high alert.

“Katara? Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I’m fine,” Katara says calmly. She looks around, taking in their new surroundings with admirable calm. He sits up, too, frowning. They’re no longer in their bedroom. It appears that somehow, they’ve crashed through the floor and ended up in their living room, wrecking it in the process. Broken parts of the table and chairs that used to occupy the middle of the room lie strewn across the floor. There’s a giant hole in the ceiling about the size of their bed - which is nothing but a misshapen lump beneath him.

Before he can try to figure out what happened, there’s a pounding at their door. Hakoda’s voice comes through, panicked. “Katara, Aang, what happened? I heard a crash, are you two alright?”

Katara recovers faster than Aang. “We’re fine!” she calls out, discreetly applying an extra layer of ice around the edges of the door so no one can come in. “It was just, uh, an accident. Nothing to worry about!”

The pounding stops, though no footsteps are heard, so Aang assumes the chief is still on the other side of the door. “Are you sure?” he asks doubtfully. “That was a very loud crash. Maybe I should come in to check that everything’s okay.”

“Nope, no need!” Katara shouts back. “We’re completely fine!”

There’s silence, like the chief is debating whether or not to just break the door down. Aang sighs in relief when he calls back, “Okay, if you’re sure. Call me if anything happens, though, okay?” This is mostly because both he and Katara are completely naked, and though they’re married and this is perfectly acceptable behaviour for a married couple, he still really doesn’t want  _ her dad  _ walking in on this. Married or not, he’d probably find a way to murder Aang.

“Sure, Dad.” They listen in silence as his footsteps fade.

“So, uh, do you know what happened?” Aang asks awkwardly. His wife shoots him an amused glance. She looks like she’s seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“You mean, you haven’t guessed?”

Aang’s brain is still a little fuzzy. He counts himself lucky to be able to string together coherent sentences right now. Katara takes pity on him.

“You melted the floor using firebending.”

His eyes fly open.  _ “What?!” _ But the more he thinks about it, the more he starts to recall a strange heat suffusing the room moments before the fall. He flushes, completely embarrassed. He can’t believe he lost control like that. He hasn’t done that since he was  _ thirteen. _ He covers his face and groans in mortification.

Katara giggles. “It’s all right,” she says. Mercifully, she doesn’t tease him, instead getting up to put the room to rights. He means to help her, he really does, but he’s a little distracted by her still-naked form, and he’s pretty sure that if he tried to help right now he’d only succeed in firebending instead of waterbending. Which would not lead to a good outcome.

She glances back coyly as she gracefully levitates and manipulates the ice, swaying just a little more than the movements really require. He feels all the blood rushing downwards at the sight of her, but that’s nothing new. Finally, she reshapes the melted bed, and lifts them both on the slab of floor, flawlessly repairing the hole in the ceiling.

Then she crawls back in bed, pushing him onto his back so that she’s straddling his waist, face mere inches away from his. There’s a gleeful smile on her face. 

“I never knew I made you so hot that you’d burn down our bedroom in the middle of sex.”

He silences her with a kiss.


End file.
